


A God

by AllOPsMustSuffer



Category: Devil May Cry, DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: Character Death, Dante (Devil May Cry) is a Mess, God Complex, One Shot, Ouch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllOPsMustSuffer/pseuds/AllOPsMustSuffer
Summary: Red grave has found a new god. Vergil has come to kill him.
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Lady & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Trish & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 7





	A God

“Fuckin Hell.”

Dante ran a hand down his face, a futile attempt at wiping away some of the blood and sweat that was beginning to sting his eyes. His hand landed heavy on the desk, shaking the stacked bills and empty pizza boxes.

Hopping up on the desktop beside him, Lady made a point of nudging the hunter. The steel tip of her boot dug into his ribs, just enough to be painful. “Oh, ho. Someone’s frustrated.” Her tone was tantalizing. “Now that’s a rare occurrence. Who’s got your panties in a twist, Dante?”

Dante shoved her boot away and looked at her pointedly. “My damn brother has reared his toothpick wielding ass. He’s outta hell.”

Lady sighed and slid off the desk, reaching for Kaliana Ann. “Well, I guess he got the Christmas card. It’s about we had a family reunion.” 

* * *

Vergil waltzed, in the way that he does, into the deserted square of Red Grave’s lower quarter. Even here, statues in Sparda’s liking stood in fine stone above streets stained with the waste of humankind. If he did not find both objects so distasteful, he would think the scene a great show of juxtaposition. And then he considered the statue further, and realised it to be more in the image of his brother than his father. Suddenly it was a show of juxtaposition, after all. The statue of Dante was far more repulsive than shit stained streets.

The office of Devil May Cry, having expanded to include much of the surrounding block, was not far. But already Vergil could sense the presence of Dante’s lackeys, women— _his harem, perhaps—_ That he kept around like cannon fodder.

One approached him now.

Small and dark, she walked confidently up to Vergil. A large firearm was slung over her shoulder, no doubt compensation for her lack of precision in combat.

“Hiya, Verge.” Her mouth paused to chew something. _Bubblegum._ Vergil thought. _How, childish._

“You gotta reason to swing by? I don’t recall sending an invitation.” Chew, blow. Pop. _Disgusting._

Vergil’s face did nothing to hide his distaste. “The disdainful behavior of my brother has come to my attention. I have come to quell this nonsense.”

Lady bent with laughter. “Nonsense?! Really, Vergil. You should stay in this town at least a day before you make that call.” Her expression grew serious, and the smile vanished. “See, we’re making quite a living off Dante’s _nonsense_. I’d hate to see that cash cow sent to the butcher.”

Vergil considered this. “I must create a system, or be enslaved by another man's. I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.” He paused. Blake always deserved pause. “You do not create, Lady. You, and my brother, enslave.”

She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “They chose to worship him.”

“And he has chosen to let them.” Vergil raised the Yamato, still sheathed. “What was once imagined is now proved. Dante has given substance to fantasy for his selfish benefit.”

Kalina Ann fired without warning, but Vergil had expected it was already loaded and avoided the rocket. He crossed the space between them quickly pressing the Yamato against the rocket launcher. His full power was not behind the standstill. It was currently unnecessary to kill the human.

Lady grimaced under the pressure, but held her stance. “What the hell, Vergil? Why do this? Humans are none of your concern.”

“That is false.”

“Oh, really? You don’t mean to say you give a shit about any of us?”

Vergil made a face of disdain in regard to Lady’s comment, his eyes squinting, as if his response was an obvious one. “I have a son.”

Lady rolled her eyes. Vergil did not care for this. “Oh, yeah, sure. Nero. That kid you left behind. I’d hardly call him your son, Vergil. He’s your son like I’m my daddy’s daughter, like Trish is your mommy. He’s never loved you.”

Vergil sneered. 

“Hit a sore spot?”

“My fight is not with you. Begone, woman.”

Vergil felt footsteps approach from behind him. “Now, now, Vergil, that’s no way to talk to a Lady.” A voice, but not new to him.

“Trish. We are, familiar.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while, Nelo. I see you’ve lost the jumpsuit. It was a bit much, anyway.”

Vergil’s brow knit as he was unpleasantly reminded of the years wasted as the Dark Knight. “Nelo Angelo was a weapon. I have long escaped that prison.”

Trish stood with assertive nonchalance, hand on her hip and the other twirled a pistol. “And yet here you are, doing Mundus’s bidding?” The gun transferred to her fist, her finger landing on the trigger. “Sweetheart, I think you’re confused. You should be on our side— if we wanted you.”

“I am my side. Mundus may wish Dante dead, but I have other motivations.”

Trish laughed at this, and aimed the pistol at Vergil’s chest. “You wanna be a God too? Well, get in line.”

Vergil felt Lady shift her weight behind him, and thrust Yamato backward just in time. Lady dodged easily, choosing to stand beside Trish. The pair of them faced Vergil unabashedly, guns raised, and smiled.

“Jackpot.”

This angered Vergil, more than the bullets he had to leap to avoid. It reminded him of a time when Dante and he fought side by side, as family. Now they only fought as brothers do— with intention to eliminate one another.

The Yamato made quick work of the human woman, who could not recover from injuries to both her hamstrings. Once she could no longer pursue him, Vergil turned his focus on the demon. Lightning sparked the air around her, and he could feel the malice in its power. 

“You really think you can take myself and Dante?”

“No bird soars too high on his own wings.” Vergil paused. “Dante has long stood on the shoulders of misguided believers, but I have come into my power, alone. I will remove you from his pedestal, and we will fight on level ground.”

Trish sneered. “You cocky bastard.”

The air beside Vergil cracked and exploded with the force of a great and sudden heat, blinding him. His senses momentarily dulled, Trish was upon him in an instant, gripping his neck with unnatural strength and pressing the barrel of her pistol into the skin of his temple. 

“Die.”

Yamato’s phantoms struck Trish from all sides as they circled the pair, forcing her to release Vergil. Pricked, Trish pressed a hand to her bloodied side.

“God, I hate you. You’ve got as many sly tricks as your brother.”

“It is you who tried to distract me.”

Vergil felt a great power burst on his back, and his face quickly made acquaintances with the ground. An involuntary grunt escaped his lips.

“I don’t need legs to kill you, bastard.” The woman. _Humans are so… pesky._

It was by no means a fatal strike, though Vergil was caught off guard by it. He pushed himself up, and spoke as he came to his feet. “That is— ah!”

Kaliana Ann fired again, striking Vergil in the chest this time. “Stop your chit chat, bastard. It’s time to die!”

Vergil called forth a phantom blade, slicing the hand of this terribly persistent woman. The demon reacted quickly, drawing her companion from Vergil's line of fire. It gave him time to finish his taunt. “That is thrice, hgh—” A cough. Vergil checked his hand, finding blood. _Unacceptable_ . He thought. “Thrice you have called me bastard. I assure you,” He coughed, again. _Disgusting._ “I was born in wedlock.”

“Oh, shut up!” Leaving Lady, Trish threw a bolt at Vergil’s already singed chest, but he swayed to avoid it.

“It would also be assumed,” another bolt, and Vergil had to step back this time. “That you think the one you follow a bastard as well.” Trish was closing the distance between them. 

She paused to gather her power. “I never said he wasn’t.” The air began to crackle. “In fact, he’s worse than you.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you follow him?”

“I don’t. I stand beside him.”

The air grew warm and Vergil felt his gut twist. He threw out one last attempt to convince her. “He will never share his power.”

Without reply, Trish rushed forward once more, lightning cracking from the air above Vergil. Stepping to the left, he narrowly avoided her attack. And then he knelt, drawing Yamato and pointing it down as he recalled his words of power.

_I walk among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of genius; which to Angels look like torment and insanity. I know pleasure, and I know death._

Vergil spoke the genius of which he was certain. “This is the end.”

Judgement cut shattered the light of Trish’s atomic fire, and snuffed out lightning. Cold, she fell to her knees in shock. Vergil stood before her, and Yamato remained out. “I do not wish to be a God. I wish this world to return to balance, by removing the weight of my brother and his misplaced power.”

“I do not wish to be a God. I wish this world to return to balance, by removing the weight of my brother and his misplaced power.”

“You will never beat Dante. He will not let you touch him.”

“He is foolish to believe he is immune.”

As if in the same moment, the throats of both Lady and Trish were opened. Lifeblood gushing forth, they collapsed simultaneously, lying in their sudden death. Vergil drew Yamato forth and prepared to sheath it. His words fell on deaf ears.

“I am lethal.”

Blood dripped from the blade and seeped from its bindings as Vergil placed it at his side. His fingers became sticky, and he flicked away the residual liquid. Glancing behind him, Vergil grimaced at the unnecessary carnage. _I must haste._ He thought, and nodded once at the stain beginning to form on his once immaculate sleeve. _Or the blood of Dante’s foolishness will soil my coat._

The lair of his foil lay before him, worshipped and yet still in poor condition in only the way his brother could achieve. The windows were foggy with dust, and the door hung tilted off one hinge. It was hardly the eden of a god. Vergil waltzed in, his hand resting on Yamato’s hilt.

Dante was leaning back in an office chair, his feet up on the desk. _How loathsome._ “You have been a thorn in the side of this world for too long, little brother. It’s time. I’m ending you.”

A laugh escaped the comfortable smile on Dante’s smug face. “You really think you have the power to do that, Vergil?”

“I have all the power of this world and ours, Dante. You cannot defeat me this time.”

“Now, now, Verge. I wouldn’t be so sure. Doesn’t humanity always win out? You’ve got the devil in your corner. I’ve got the very people you’re trying to protect.”

“And they will realize soon enough that you are not one of them, Dante.”

“Neither are you.”

“No. I am not.” Vergil lifted the Yamato, preparing to draw it. “I am their savior.”

“And I am their God.”

Vergil thumbed Yamato open, and was upon Dante in an instant. The katana nearly reached its target, but a guarded forearm blocked its path. The force of the impact threw both twins several feet back. Dante remained seated in his wheeled office chair, his posture relaxed.

“What’s this?” He chuckled. “Running in blind? I thought that was my thing.” The cahir forgotten, Dante rushed Vergil, their swords locking. Again, the force of their contact pushed them violently apart.

Dante stood back, considering his next move. He went with his specialty: mocking. “Oh, come on! You don’t even like humans!”

Vergil raised a single eyebrow. “Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.”

“Say it in English, why don’t you?”

Vergil sighed and translated his words. “You are correct. I despise them.”

Dante made an exasperated gesture that very clearly meant _then why the hell?_

“If everything I despised in this world ceased to exist, there would be nothing. That is not what I desire.”

“And? What do you desire, brother dearest?”

“Your death.”

Dante smiled. His hands made a motion of aloof disbelief, as if Vergil had said that he wished the grass grew blue or the water flowed up. “Too bad for you, Santa doesn’t give presents to naughty boys. Unless you plan to throw coal at me till I die, you’d better grant that wish yourself.”

Vergil prepared the Yamato. “I had no thought to the contrary.”

“Yeah, yeah—” Dante waved his hand absentmindedly, the Rebellion manifesting in his palm. His arms open in a sarcastic gesture, he smirked. “I’d like to see you try.” 

Vergil teleported behind his brother, pressing the hilt of Yamato against his throat. He would make his brother surrender, and renounce his false piety in this world.

But Dante had foreseen Vergil’s first move. As his brother appeared behind him, Dante thrust the Rebellion through them both. Skewered, Dante simply pushed himself through the hilt, unaffected by his own Devil Arm. He turned to leer at his brother. “Oh Vergil,” He pushed the Rebellion deeper into the older twin's gut. “You should’ve used the pointy end.”

Blood seeped onto Vergil’s slack chin, his eyes beginning to glaze over. He remained standing, as much weight on the blade as on his own feet.

Dante continued to taunt him. “No one’s on your side, Vergil. You can’t win this. Even if you did, who would thank you?”

Regaining his focus, Vergil spit blood and words. “No one, Dante.” Yamato sliced the light around them, but Dante was faster— pulling Rebellion from Vergil’s gut, he backed away beyond Yamato’s reach. A warm, wet trickle dripped onto his shirt, and he lifted his hand to his face, finding blood. A cut on his cheek.

Dante’s smirk made another loathed appearance. “Bastard. Jealous of my beautiful face?” Propping the Rebellion against Vergil’s throat, Dante’s eyes turned black. Standing over Vergil’s hunched and bloodied form, he whispered in a tone that promised death. “Any last words, brother?”

Vergil’s voice was painfully clear. “You will never be a God.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Rebellion rushed forth, but pierced thin air. Vergil had vanished. Then Dante heard the telltale splatter of blood behind him. Breath warmed his ear. “Do you know how they killed our father, Dante?” A moment.

“They cut off his head.”

The Yamato sliced a perfect circle in time. A body fell to its knees, and then to the ground.

Vergil stood over the headless form of his brother, and closed his eyes. Turning, he flicked the Yamato one last time, closing the portal to Hell. The feeling of Dante’s eyes, looking back at him from the otherside, lingered. Pure hatred, raw and vengeful. But his brother would never challenge him again. Not even Dante could mend this fatal, eternal wound.

Vergil moved, absent of his thoughts and the emotions beginning to overtake him at the pain of losing his last family member. He felt a dampness in his boots, and angled his face downward.

Blood soaked his shoes, the proof of their battle. _Dante’s,_ he thought. But then his own dripped and joined the puddle, and Vergil realized there was no way to tell. The blood gathered and mixed without difference. _It might have been from one man. One demon._

Vergil whispered to himself the truth of Dante’s illusion, and he wished once more that his brother had not been a foolish man. _Dante…._ He thought. 

“A God cannot bleed.”

**Author's Note:**

> There’s nothing like family to fix a superiority complex.


End file.
